[Through there, the Belmont says, and all of Alucard deflates. His room. His old room, the one his parents insisted that they keep in tact because they had done so much work in putting it together and because well, Alucard still used that drafting table from time to time.

There's no time for self pity though, and Alucard forces the emotional gut punch of the whole thing aside. There's a young...woman? Man? Woman, the Belmont said her, curled around his wolf, and the headwound looks cosmetically bad. He's quick to kneel down beside her, then place the box down next to him.

The Belmont's wary. So Alucard is quick to explain what he's doing as he opens the chest.]

I'm going to apply a little bit of alcohol on the cloth to prevent the wound from being infected. After that, I'm going to want to examine how deep it is, in case there is a need for stitches. If there is, I'll do that work. If there isn't, I'll simply wash the wound out, apply the alcohol again, and then see to your companion's bandages.

Is that acceptable?